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Michael Gawain Calvagh

"Trust me, I'm fine. I can handle myself sometimes."

0 · 259 views · located in Upper Ashridge

a character in “When We Die”, as played by Ashes-6695

Description

Image

~ мι¢нαєℓ gαωαιη ¢αℓναgн ~

~ "gαωαιη" ~


Age: 18

Gender: Male

Are you past life aware?: For the most part. There are few things that are just outside his grasp, but he can recall most of the big parts of his past lives. Specifically, dying is something he remembers the most.

Role: Boy 5

General Outline: Age 18. Originally the shy, bookworm type, he's moved onto being a bit of a computer and video game geek in more recent lives. He's shy and quiet, and seems to be the type who wouldn't - and couldn't - hurt a fly. Despite his kind demeanor, he's a bit of a know-it-all, and a bit of a nerd. He does well in school, but he's a little bit on the helpless side. His best friend is Boy 4, and he's got a bit of a deal going about doing his homework, and Boy 4 stops a lot of people from bullying him. He has a bit of a crush on Boy 4, but is fully aware that the other boy doesn't see him in that way at all. Boy 4 is oblivious to his crush, but most other people aren't so fooled.


Image Personality: Shy and quiet, Gawain rarely talks to anyone outside his circle and has a particular fear of anyone bigger than he is; which happens to include a lot of people. Though he would seem to be the emotional, sob-all-the-time wimpy type, he holds few emotional reactions, especially around other people, and people tend to see him as more the type to think like a computer; spouting out information but not a single feeling. Only around people he trusts completely does he actually show off his emotional and delicate side, not that people don't already know he's more delicate than some of the girls. He can be bold when it comes to giving out his knowledge, and the only place he's brave is when hacking into a mainframe, but anything having to do with something outside of his comfort zone is completely ignored, and anything that is familiar is often clung to desperately. Admitting his emotions tends to be a fault, even when he's blubbering, but people simply have to be patient with him. He gets very attached to the same old routine, and it's very difficult for people to push him towards something new.

Your Details: Life seems relatively decent for him, with not so much to be desired. His parents are together, He has one older brother in college, and there's nothing at all wrong with the small 1 floor house that he lives in on the cheaper side of town. His brother comes around once in a while, but with both parents traveling for work, Gawain is left practically alone, occasionally being checked up on by one of the neighbors to be sure the house hasn't been burned down. His parents are terrible when they're together, though, arguing and shouting, and both cheat on each other as soon as the other's back is turned. Gawain is just told to stay out of it. When his brother is around, there is very little the older boy has to offer aside from teasing, despite being a relatively caring older brother. Majorly, he's on his own, and gets by with a part time job, but does a lot by himself. He doesn't really do a lot that's specifically "good" for him, and spends his time doing what he wants, rather than what he really should do.

He's intelligent, and passes in school easily with good grades. He participates in the AV club, but mostly likes to take advantage of the amount of extra equipment that he can take home and take apart for personal projects. He makes quick work of homework, even when doing it for two people, and often stays up late with hacking files or programming his computer, or playing video games. School is far from fun, since he's always dealt with physical and verbal bullying from most of his peers. His friend can't exactly keep everyone at bay, and people still give him hell or shove him down to the ground whenever they get the chance. He often has a bruise or two from being grabbed or shoved or tripped, but despite appearances, puts up with most of it. He does happen to be somewhat attractive at levels, and this does cause a bit more of a problem with being a target. He has been the victim of some sexual harassment and torment, but hasn't brought up this fact with any of his friends.


Likes:
~ Computers
~ Video Games
~ Books
~ Familiar things
~ Nice & Cute clothes
~ Being a know-it-all
~ Hacking into illegal systems
~ Coding computers

Dislikes:
~ Dogs
~ Playing sports
~ Strangers
~ New experiences
~ Large Animals
~ Sappy movies
~ Being harassed
~ People who say "everything is going to be alright"
~ Heights

Secrets:
~ His fears, of course.
~ He doesn't normally like to tell people that he has asthma, because he's worried they'll be even more worried about his safety.
~ Most of the sexual harassment he hasn't been telling anyone, and doesn't like to talk about any of the harassment that occurs unless absolutely necessary.

Fears:
~ Dogs and Large animals.
~ Loud noises, varying from thunder, to shouting.
~ Strangers.
~ Heights.

Sexual Orientation: He's technically pansexual, and really doesn't think of gender when it comes to determining if he likes someone or not. It just so turns out that when he finds someone attractive, it's typically a guy.

Crush: Boy 4, Wasalu Armando, but he doesn't really have the highest hopes, since the guy is a little oblivious to it.

Boyfriend/Girlfriend: N/A

Other: Nothing to report on as of yet.

Image Height: 5'6"

Build: Incredibly scrawny, with bony limbs and a fragile-looking frame. He appears as though the wind alone could really just knock him over. His frame seems to give an illusion of height, but it is quickly dismissed the moment he's next to someone taller.

Looks: Scrawny and not even making the cut of "average height," he has an awkward body and it's a wonder how he stands on his own. He has a sweet, young-looking face with a light jawline but a strong chin. His features are soft, framed by thick, choppy dark hair at a medium length, which tends to get a little out of control when it's not brushed. Though the color of his hair can seem blackish in lower lighting, sunshine brings out golden tones. His bright eyes a jade green in color, framed by a thick black lash that makes the color stand out. His eyes have a slightly rounded shape, and are large and sweet-looking. His full lips are reddish slightly in tint on a regular basis, making them somewhat more noticeable against his pale skin tone. His skin seems relatively regular, without too many problems about bad skin, although he has some very dark freckles scattered here and there. His freckles don't cover his skin, though, but many of them are pretty noticeable, and there are a few on his face. He has reading glasses, but doesn't care to use them unless he's planning on doing a lot of reading, or working on small parts, otherwise, he just strains his eyes. His clothing style varies, but despite his love for nice clothes, he often wears very plain ones, since he doesn't always want to be bothered with it.

So begins...

Michael Gawain Calvagh's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Michael Gawain Calvagh
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Gawain pushed firmly on the AV cart, straining against the resistance of the wheels to the slight rise in the floor where the door way to the parking lot was. The door he'd propped up with a rock to keep it out of his way, but the small metal ledge that was possibly just a centimeter above the linoleum floors was proving to be more than enough of a challenge for the cart. He strained one last time, leaning on his side of the cart to try and lift the front wheels over the bump. The cart sped past the area, and would have escaped him had the bump not slowed the back wheels enough to keep his force from following through. Gawain released a small breath of relief, glad that the task had been completed without needing to call someone a little stronger for assistance. After all, having absolutely zero muscle did him no favors with doing anything, even if it was just moving some old computer parts outside to put them in the trunk of his piece-o-crap car.

He pushed the cart down the uneven pavement of the school parking lot, having to struggle more in some areas than others, but essentially having not too much of an issue bringing the equipment the rest of the way to his car. He'd gotten some plans for hacking some pretty heavy duty files, and at the very least, the extra motherboards and backup software from the computers he'd snatched would keep him from slowing down when the firewalls tried to crash his system. It was hardly legal, of course. He was digging into a program that was none of his business, but it was like a bad habit. There wasn't much he could really do, and perhaps it was just that the idea of doing this kind of thing gave him a rush, a thrill. Certainly no reason to stop the only thing he was good at.

Stopping the cart beside his car, he quickly unlocked the trunk and popped it open, leaning halfway inside of the vehicle's backside as he pushed around the disheveled items that lay back there. A couple car essentials he didn't know how to use, an old blanket he used to cover up some of his equipment if he didn't want people to see, some loose change (mostly in pennies) that he simply didn't want to pick up, and a couple wires he still hadn't returned to the AV club after borrowing them and realizing he'd no use for them. Gawain took a deep breath, leaning against the bumper of the car and rubbing his sore wrist. The skin at which, had turned mostly a deep red colour, though at the center boasted a blackish bruise. He'd been grabbed in the locker room again - such an attack he didn't normally repeat to anyone, which tended to be easier since none of his friends shared the class with him - and upon trying to twist out of the much stronger boy's grip, received what seemed to be a combination of an Indian Sunburn and a bruise at the same time. It throbbed with the sting of a sprain, and though he planned to ice it when he got home, he'd all but forgotten about it since it happened, doing nothing but feeling the pain. He hardly concerned himself about it. It was normal, after all.

He pulled his brown Skullcandy Aviators headphones down, letting them sit around his neck to allow him to keep an ear out. Most everyone was gone from the school grounds, aside from club members or sports teams, or maybe just a few students with cars that were taking their sweet time pulling off campus. But even still, he couldn't be too careful, couldn't stop being on edge. Sudden, out-of-the-blue events always tended to be his downfall in the past, and being a little paranoid had just become normal. Normal enough to mask it, anyway. He could look as relaxed as he wanted, but it didn't mean relaxed was how he felt. The soft noise from his headphones mulled with the air, difficult to hear unless you were within a few feet, giving off the tune of Radioactive by Imagine Dragons.

Gawain took a deep breath, rolling up the sleeves of his pale blue plaid flannel over shirt a little higher till they were up above his elbows, and focused his attention back on all his gear. Shit was this going to be heavy. He'd managed to get them onto the cart by pushing them on, but there was going to have to be some lifting to get them into his car. Propping one side of the first piece, he got as good a grip as he could with his bony little fingers, straining with hands shaking slightly as he lifted the machinery upward about half an inch from the cart, leaning it against his chest, and huffing his was over to his trunk to drop it in, just barely managing the task without the drop completely wrecking the equipment. He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to be sure he got in enough air. Looking back over at the cart, however, his hear sank just a little. He still had to go through the strenuous process two more times.

Letting out a small moan at the task, he dug his fingers underneath the second one, biting down on his lower lip as he lifted and attempted the short trip from the cart to his car again. His grip was even shakier this time, and before the task could be completed, the heavy object tumbled from his weak grip to hit the ground with a loud crack of the plastic outer shell, bits and pieces of it scattering and breaking off.

"Fuck," He muttered, panting from the strain on his body and how the object's dropping had startled him. He found himself only more on edge, shoulders hunched and body tense, even as he crouched down and started gathering up as much of the broken bits as he could in one hand, dropping them on the lower level of the AV cart when he'd grabbed all that he could.

The damage wasn't too bad, only the outside had suffered, but dropping something was never a pleasurable experience. He tried to tell himself that the parts from it were still going to be usable, but one could never be totally sure. Who could say how much the inside had gotten jumbled up from the blow? It might not show, but taking it apart later might reveal it's uselessness. Honestly the whole deal was just making him even more depressed than the school day at large had done. It wasn't as if he'd made it through the day with only the wound to his wrist, after all, though the injury definitely wasn't helping with the task he was trying to perform. If it hadn't already been sprained, it probably would be soon. He tried not to dwell on the idea. Thinking about the pain was just what would make it hurt more, and the last thing he wanted to do was show off that he was hurting.

I'm fine, he told himself. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Grabbing onto the object once again, he propped it up sideways, trying to make the distance upward a little less, before pulling up on it suddenly. The shock the action sent through the injured hand was almost instantaneous, and though he didn't shout out, or moan, or wince, he retracted the hand and held it in close, putting the other hand over the injury as if to protect it and let the computer drop back down to the ground with another crack following its landing.

Bad idea.

Terrible idea.

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

He dropped his arms back to his sides, shaking out the injured wrist as if the action could wave away the pain as he walked in a small anxious circle to try and relieve some of his tenseness. He could go off looking for someone a little stronger and a little less injured to help him out with moving the objects? No, no, he wasn't about to beg someone for help. That only made him look even more pathetic. But Gawain certainly wasn't about to be getting the other two computers into his car, or even back onto the AV cart the rate he was going. He tried to weigh his options, leaning against the bumper of his car again as he pulled his sleeves down again, trying to cover up the injury that way, but knowing any movement would make it visible once again. He could hide the injury, simply play it off that he was too weak to lift it. Perhaps just being generally thought of as weak was a little more dignified that showing that he'd received yet another wound for not being able to defend himself. Or perhaps he could say the injury was from falling, a simple act of clumsiness, and that was why he required the assistance. Neither option really tickled his fancy. He almost just wanted to leave everything where it was and drive away, forget about the whole thing. The dropped computer was useless by now anyway, wasn't it? But he very well knew that he'd pay for the irresponsibility later on. There was just no good way to handle it, really.

Sighing, he got up from his place and shut the trunk, being sure to lock it before beginning a walk away from the scene. If someone grabbed the stuff, then fine, they could have it. If they didn't, then Gawain would attempt the task again with a fresh start. But he needed a break, at the very least. Even if it wasn't to look for help necessarily. If he came across it, he figured asking wouldn't hurt, despite how he absolutely hated the idea. He knew he was absolutely useless, but sometimes a guy just likes to act like he isn't at the very least.

He cornered the school to the back of the building where most of the fields and track were. It was a much busier area at this point in the day, even for people who might not be interested in the sports so much as they were to be smoking underneath the bleachers. Gawain sort of just edged the school, trying not to draw attention to himself and only thinking that looking for help from one of his friends was going to look so pathetic that it wasn't even worth it. He simply played it off like the whole point was just to take a walk, to take a look at things, whatever. Forget the help. He'd do a lap around the school and try again himself. If he still was having trouble, he'd just forget about it. Leave the broken computer on the pavement and push the AV cart inside. He'd go home and ice his wrist for a while, hang around the house and try not to be bothered with anything.

As the song switched from Radioactive to Oblivion by Grimes, he picked up his headphones, placing them back over his ears to block out the number of people in the area. That was the nice thing about headphones, they were a little sign to everyone that someone really just wasn't interested in conversation. The bad thing about them was they left Gawain in particular a little more vulnerable to being snuck up on. He took one more glance around before turning back instead of completing the lap, heading directly back for the parking lot. He was in no mood for seeking assistance. He just felt generally too crappy for that. Maybe someone would come along and notice that he'd had trouble, but he doubted so. Things almost never work out the way one wants them to, after all.

But he could handle it on his own, he told himself. All his wrist needed was a break. He could get the rest of the stuff in his car, no problem. He was absolutely. Positively. One hundred percent. fine.

He repeated the statement again and again in his mind.

If he thought it enough, maybe it would make it a little less untrue.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wasalu Armando Character Portrait: Michael Gawain Calvagh
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Wasalu closed his eyes. He could almost feel the rain he had been wishing for all day. Dante had started a garden and whenever Wasalu went to his brother's home, Dante had him water the plants. His dad was off to something in the city, a book exposition with tons of authors who might fund the library, so Wasalu was living with his brothers at the moment. He disliked having to garden, though. He wished it would rain just for that alone. But then we wouldn't get to play soccer, would we? He thought, smiling to himself.

He had stayed after school because his brothers were both too busy to pick him up today. He could've walked home, but he was too lazy to do that. So instead he had told himself he'd go to soccer practice-- and instead ended up daydreaming under a tree by the field. The coach normally found him slacking off when the team had to jog around the field, but today he'd been held up by his English teacher. It was always annoying to get held up-- he hated having to talk about how he was no good at school things. There were only so many times he could talk about how difficult it was for him to read before he wanted to knock someone out. Some of his teachers still called his home to ask his father about ways to help Wasalu learn to like reading. It made school a pain in the ass. The only upside to having to listen to all of this was that Diego would always get just as upset as Wasalu did, which was especially funny if Diego was the one to come pick Wasalu up while one of the more brave teachers felt the need to approach someone in the Armando family.

The shouts from the field let him know that the soccer team was still practicing. He hadn't gone yet, but he could go still. He needed to attend at least one soccer practice this week. Maybe kick the ball around, joke around with the other guys... But he felt like painting. He didn't always have his easel and canvas-- today being one of the days that Dante had caught him trying to leave the house with his painting supplies and had taken them away so that Wasalu wouldn't ditch class-- and as such, he couldn't just start painting what he saw. He supposed he could sketch, though. When he opened his bag, he found he didn't have his sketch book.

Well, this is slightly annoying. He thought after his search. Zipping up his bag, he sighed and thought, I guess it's in my locker? Getting up, he slung his bookbag over his shoulder and started towards the school.

He hadn't gotten far before he saw someone walking around the school. It kind of seemed as though the person was frustrated with something or... trying to hide from someone? Wasalu frowned slightly. It wasn't just anyone. Gawain! He realized. The way he was walking was far too fast to be a normal romp around school. Is he being bullied again? Wasalu quickly scanned the area. Wait, wait... Gawain's not dumb. He'd come get me if he needed me. And he'd probably be less relaxed if he was being chased. Wasalu thought. Still, he surveyed the area for someone following him. There was no one around looking like they particularly cared about the scrawny boy's current antics. Okay... maybe he managed to lose them? Wasalu thought. But Michael wasn't walking around like he was relaxed and happy... Maybe he was still in trouble. In any case, people normally didn't bother Michael if he was with Wasalu, so he figured he'd help Michael hide for a bit before Diego showed up to pick Wasalu up from soccer practice. So he jogged over to Michael, who looked like he was going to the parking lot.

...Doesn't he have a car...? Wasalu thought. What's Gawain doing wandering around the school if he's got a car? I wouldn't even be in school if I had a car. He paused to think about it, but then assumed he was too stupid to figure out what his genius friend was doing. Michael was too smart, it made Wasalu worry that his friend disliked how absolutely stupid Wasalu could be every now and then. He did, however, note Michael's headphones and decided not to approach Michael from behind. He caught up to Michael easily since the boy really wasn't doing a good job hiding himself.

"Gawain...?" He asked, hoping his friend didn't jump out of his skin. "You busy? Wanna go with me to grab my sketch book?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hannah Greene Character Portrait: Hope Hathaway Character Portrait: Nathan Hartwell Character Portrait: Amy Roswell Character Portrait: Wasalu Armando Character Portrait: Jeremy Royce
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#, as written by Savader
'Is today the day...?' I kept thinking. Over and over again as I stared at my watch, as I did every new day that came to greet me. 'Is today the day...?' I constantly find myself asking that question... Just hoping that I'm wrong today too, that it's just another day that I can use to my advantage. And while I know that it at least shouldn't be, I also know that things don't always go according to how they're designed... 'Is today the day...?' My small bedroom in my tiny apartment was completely silent at the moment; the only sound that could be heard was the gentle ticking of my pocket watch, which, to me, sounded as though it were as heavy as the Elizabeth Tower's hands. The sound had become so regular for me, it now constantly echoed in my mind, even when I wasn't looking at the watch itself... Some may call this torture, but I look at it as a chance to survive the coming fire...

I was merely laying on my back, in bed, with a hand behind my head, making it seem like I was just relaxing. A typical thing a teenager like myself would be doing for no apparent reason, right? Wrong. I wasn't a typical teenager in the slightest... I've already been down this road several times, and it became old a long ago. But as for now, it's all I know. It was already morning, and I, 'Nathan Hartwell', was currently late for first period. I was debating on whether or not to even GO to school, nevermind making it in time for first period... I let out a sigh as I looked down at my watch, knowing what my friends would say if they knew I was really like this. The only word I could currently think of that would fit my attitude as of yet, would be "emo". It's rather stereotypical, and I don't think I fit all the requirements of the title, but it's likely the closest matching one for someone as hopeless as I am. "No one understands me", "Nothing matters to me", "My dark heart is only outmatched by my dark soul"... Blah. I think nothing of the sort. I'm glad no one understands the real me, and although the only things that matter to me are very few, they still exist, only consisting of my friends, and agenda towards keeping them alive and well... Which never seems to go the way I want. Heh, maybe I should blame my "dark heart and soul" for that, huh?

"Is today the day....." I said out loud this time, now pausing, as if I were waiting for someone to respond. No one did, of course, as I was the only one living here. I left my 'parents' place last year after saving up enough to get this place. Couldn't handle being in a new family for the umpteenth time... After doing so over around 5 times thus far, it gets a little tiring... Oh, you must think I'm an orphan or something. Well, in a sense, I guess that could be true, but not the type you're thinking of. Just take my word for it; you don't wanna know... It'll just complicate things. Trust me.

After getting tired of mindlessly looking at my watch for the past hour or so, I decided to put it back in my pocket, and raise myself up. I was fully dressed, mind you. As I said; I was debating on whether or not to go to school today. Having said that, I already dressed myself for the day. "I guess I might as well... If I don't, 'she' might get on my case..." I said with a sigh. The person I was referring to is a close friend of mine. One of the few who have...such a 'strong' memory, like myself... Yeah, let's put it like that for now... This person is can be quite invading when it comes to her friends, and even more so when it comes to me, which only burdens me more... She of course MEANS well, but all it honestly does is set me back, which is NOT what I need in this life... Either way, if I leave now, I should be able to make it in time for second period, so I suppose I should head out now... This was the start of the first day of what I had hoped to be my first REAL life, as well as my last... Which, as any would guess, is how it is for everyone...right?

After grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I stepped up to my front door, and pulled out my pocket watch once more, giving it a check... "Is today the day...we die...?" I said, an obvious melancholic tone in my voice, only propelling the "emo" theory even further for anyone who's reading this, I'm sure. Trust me though, I'm not. I promise. "Well... Time to start it, either way..." I finished, re-pocketing my watch, and setting out for school... This was how most of my days began. Me, waking up, eating some breakfast, getting dressed...and then debating whether or not I should become a friggin' recluse for the rest of eternity...only to end up deciding to go to school in the end. I suppose it was a subconscious thing-- the reason why I always decided to go anyway, I mean... It likely has something to do with the LAST time I cut school... I shudder now even at the thought of it... And so, with that, I'll go ahead and speed up time, so as to meet up with the rest of the world. No, no. This isn't an ability of mine. Just a time skip...


-Several hours later, after school-



Yet another boring day of school. Sure, I got to see some of my friends today, but nothing ever changes. It's all such a waste of time, what with our damn lives being predetermined failures... Okay, THAT sounded pretty emo, I'll admit, but seriously...I'm not.

Of all the things I could be doing right now, I was instead...sitting up in a tree...still at school. I had a good view of the layout from here, and could nearly see everything I needed to. I caught Michael having some trouble with computer monitors before he left in search of help, after failing at it himself, which I had even thought to help the poor guy myself, but figured I'd best stay out of it, knowing that it would only embarrass him if he found out I had seen him so clearly. And what would it look like, having one of your closest friends watching over you like a hawk... I was also able to see Jeremy and Amy having a heated conversation in the school halls. I swear, those two always seem to clash at some point each day... Always have for a long time...like a REALLY long time. After cracking a slight smile, I thought about how Jeremy was still trying his damnedest to hide his little 'secret', which I honestly thought was pretty awesome. Of course, I'd never confront him about it. For obvious reasons. Wasalu was likely hanging out in the soccer field, which was blocked by the school from my position, and couldn't make it out clearly. Only seeing the very far-right side, which stretched out passed the school's main building. But he obviously wasn't participating in today's practice, which he often skipped out on... Another athletic friend of mine, Hannah, was probably kicking some ass on the tennis courts, like usual. She was pretty good, and I honestly felt that I had to commend her for it, even if it was only to myself.

The rest of my friends, I had no positive knowledge of at the moment. They either weren't at school, or were still in classes, which I obviously had no way of knowing from here. Although, Hope liked riding her horse as often as she could, so she was likely out riding at this moment, but she, as well as Diana, were rather unpredictable at times, despite me learning everyone's schedules, hobbies, as well as the way their minds work fairly well...again... They still tend to surprise me quite a bit. Which is what I thought having such good friends was all about. These thoughts made me smile, but I quickly lost it when I thought about how I didn't fit such a category... The whole reason why things are so broken for us in our lives, was because of me, after all... But I could never tell them that... Too afraid of their likely resentment towards me... These friends are the only constant thing in my existence, and if I lose that... "I'll have nothing..." I said out loud to myself in a low tone. But, if one good thing were to come of today, it would be that today wasn't...'the day'... However...it was only 4 in the afternoon, so there was still a lot of time left for this 'day' to play out...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wasalu Armando Character Portrait: Michael Gawain Calvagh
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"Gawain...?"

Gawain flinched slightly at the sudden sight of his friend, pulling his headphones quickly down around his neck just in time to hear the last syllable of his name. The music hit the air just as the tune changed to Baby's on Fire by Die Antwoord. Gawain couldn't help but give a small sigh of relief that it had just been Wasalu and not someone else.

"You busy? Wanna go with me to grab my sketch book?" Wasalu asked.

Gawain gave his friend a faint smile, mainly to keep his friend's attention on his face while he made about tucking his hand on the injured side into his back pocket, out of view, while he still decided what his story was going to be for the injury. While hiding it's existence might have proved difficult, getting Wasalu to believe a tale about injuring it himself could prove easily as difficult. For now, he kept the topic out of the way and unseen. Perhaps he'd come up with a story only if Wasalu pointed out the injury himself.

"Sure, I'll come along," He said, flexing his smile slightly and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn't about to say no. He'd never really end up saying no. Not to Wasalu, anyway. "And um, I was just wondering..." He trailed off in his sentence, though he tried to convince himself there was no reason he should still feel reserved about the occurrence. He didn't have to tell his friend about the injury, and his friend certainly wasn't about to say no to him either. But it was unlikely for anyone to deny Gawain assistance, what with the boy seeming so helpless. He took a moment, taking in deep breath before trying the statement over again, and hoping that he wouldn't stumble on any of the words. "I was just wondering if maybe, um -" there, it was too late to make it through the statement without a fumble. "- uh, if you could help me out? See, I was trying to get some equipment into my car and it was too heavy... I only got one into the car and I dropped another one and it broke."

He sighed, displeased at the butchering of the sentence. Asking for help was something just so difficult, even if he had to do it often. The fact that he was trying to hide part of the story certainly didn't make getting the words out any easier. It was just seen as normal from the perspective of others, of course. Poor little Gawain, not able to do much on his own, too nervous to make a full sentence, too shy to talk to anyone aside from his friends. Any place that was public wasn't exactly a comfort zone, anyway, and it really was only while he was just with his friends when he acted like a confident know-it-all. It wasn't so suspicious. He tried to tell himself that a few times. Nothing about his behavior was going to be seen as suspicious. Wasalu wasn't about to ask about his wrist or why he couldn't lift the equipment himself.

Gawain took a step closer to Wasalu before beginning to head the rest of the way to the parking lot again; whichever activity they did first, the rout would cross through the parking lot anyway.

"So," He began, just making small talk out of curiosity. If he kept the conversation going, there was less chance it would circle back around to something he didn't want to talk about. His hand stayed where he'd put it in his back pocket, away from his friend. "You're not going to soccer practice today? Do you need a ride home cause I could drive you, y'know, if you wanted." He shrugged. He supposed he'd take any excuse to spend more time with his friend, really, though this was easily a suggestion that could be said no to. Gawain's parents were off at their jobs again, as far apart from each other as they could get, and sometimes Gawain could swear he had almost too much downtime. It almost got too quiet without all the screaming, if that were even possible. And after all, now that he finally thought about it, it was going to be a long time before he actually managed to get the computers into his house after he finally got them in the car. Crap, he thought, finally coming to the realization.

No, he told himself. He could handle it by then. His wrist will have had a long break, he could do it. He'd be fine, at least, by then. But it was getting a bit too hard to convince himself of that anymore. But it wouldn't matter if he had to wait a few days or something, at least, eventually he figured he'd be able to handle it on his own.

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Character Portrait: Wasalu Armando Character Portrait: Michael Gawain Calvagh
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Wasalu smiled when Michael responded positively. He was going to ask Michael if he was being bullied again, but his friend seemed like he was doing okay at the time. So I overreacted. He thought. Not the first time. "Great!" He said, cheerily. "I was hoping you'd come along."

Wasalu was going to ask him why he was walking around the school, but Michael spoke up. "And um, I was just wondering..." Michael trailed off in his sentence, shifting his weight back and forth. It was obvious something was on his friend's mind, though Wasalu didn't pretend to know what it was. He always wanted to help Michael, so he was sure that if Michael wanted his help... he'd ask for it. But maybe it was hard for the quiet boy to ask for help? Wasalu had considered that before, but had shrugged it off. Michael knew Wasalu would always respond yes to his requests, most likely. "I was just wondering if maybe, um -- uh, if you could help me out? See, I was trying to get some equipment into my car and it was too heavy... I only got one into the car and I dropped another one and it broke." Then he sighed, seeming slightly... annoyed or displeased. Wasalu tipped his head slightly to one side, frowning when Michael did. Was something else wrong? He gave Michael a quick once over, but wasn't able to find anything right away.

Well... it doesn't matter. I mean, I'll find out eventually if something else is wrong. "Equipment?" Wasalu responded. Considering Michael's area of expertise, was he bringing computers to the car? He was probably taking them from the AV Club. Wait, is he stealing? Wasalu wondered, before a smile spread over his face. That's...adorable. Sometimes Michael did things that were absolutely normal, like stealing-- although considering the frail looking boy was in the AV Club, maybe he was taking defunct equipment-- and Wasalu would see his actions as cute. He supposed it was because Michael gave off the air of a rather well-behaved though meek kind of person, but would sometimes veer off course and do something Wasalu wasn't expecting from him. But to be completely honest, Wasalu thought Michael stealing computers was cute because he was positive all Michael had to do was ask and people would fall over themselves to give him what he wanted. If I had that power, I'd abuse it to no end, Wasalu thought. "Sure. C'mon, let's go get that stuff into your car first. Don't want anyone stealing it, right?" He chuckled. Michael moved closer to him before they started across the parking lot again.

Like normal, Michael started up a conversation. "So, you're not going to soccer practice today? Do you need a ride home cause I could drive you, y'know, if you wanted." He shrugged.

Wasalu frowned. "Nah, I didn't feel like going to practice. I was planning on ditching school today, but... Dante caught me leaving the house with my easel, so I ended up staying all day." With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. He really didn't want to think about school "Today's more of an art day," He decided, before flashing Michael a smile. He supposed any day he didn't feel like talking to most people was an art day. "But if we finish getting your stuff into your car and grabbing my sketch book before Diego reaches, sure, I'd like if you could give me a ride home. You can stay over for a while if you want." He offered. "...Although..." Wasalu paused, realizing that if Michael needed help putting the equipment into the car, he'd probably need help getting it out, too. "Do you need my help moving your stuff into your house? I don't mind giving you a hand if you need it."

They reached Michael's car quicker than Wasalu had expected, but there was a computer tower on the ground and one on a cart. The lower level of the cart had plastic bits on it. The one on the ground had cracks in it's plastic. "Huh. Is it okay, Gawain? I mean-- that computer, can you still use it?" He knelt down to determine how heavy the computer was. With the plastic cracked, it was a bit weird to hold, but he was able to lift it onto the cart next to the other tower. It was a bit heavier than a standard tower was-- his brothers both had desktops that were lighter than this one. "I mean, if you don't want to keep it, we can dump it." He crossed his arms, looking at the two computers. "Or I guess we could swap it for a working one when we go back inside. The outer part is removable, right? You just have to keep the cracked part and we just swap out the insides." Pausing, Wasalu looked at his smaller friend. "What do you think?"

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Character Portrait: Wasalu Armando Character Portrait: Michael Gawain Calvagh
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"Nah, I didn't feel like going to practice. I was planning on ditching school today, but... Dante caught me leaving the house with my easel, so I ended up staying all day. Today's more of an art day," Wasalu had responded to the inquiry about soccer practice. "But if we finish getting your stuff into your car and grabbing my sketch book before Diego reaches, sure, I'd like if you could give me a ride home. You can stay over for a while if you want."

Gawain couldn't help but flex his smile a little wider at Wasalu's response. "Cool, sounds like a plan," He said, not bothering to hide how glad he was to get a little more time with his friend. Though, when he thought about it, the longer he spent around his friend, the sooner Wasalu would see Gawain's injury, and realize he'd been hiding it all this time. It wasn't a good set of circumstances, and Gawain tried his best to look for a place to throw in a made-up story about it before it was too late. After all, people weren't typically pleased when they find out someone was keeping information from them.

"...Although..." Wasalu added in, noticing that if Gawain was having trouble getting the computers into the car, he'd have trouble getting them out, too. "Do you need my help moving your stuff into your house? I don't mind giving you a hand if you need it."

Gawain bit his lip, shrugging. "Well, I don't think it needs to be done right away. It can wait till whenever." He pulled his hand from his pocket, ready to give an explanation that in a few days he'd be well enough to handle it on his own, but he let the moment slide, leaving his arm at his side, and tugging at his sleeve a little to be sure that the nasty wound remained covered instead. He beat himself up a little bit for not saying anything but... he just couldn't bring himself to mention it.

When they approached the car, Gawain split over towards the car while Wasalu went over to inspect the computer tower that Gawain had dropped on the ground.

"Huh. Is it okay, Gawain? I mean-- that computer, can you still use it?" He asked.

Gawain made his way over to driver's side door, unlocking it and popping the trunk so that Wasalu could get the computers into his car with the other one. Shutting the door and trailing over to Wasalu's side, he watched as the other boy lifted the broken computer up off of the ground and placed it on the AV cart with the other one, having no issues easily. Gawain really couldn't help but be jealous of his friend. When did Wasalu ever have to ask for help? Okay, well, reading, for one. And... homework for another. But how the hell should that matter? It wasn't like it was too important. Wasalu could still do plenty of other things, and better yet, he could do them on his own.

"I mean, if you don't want to keep it, we can dump it." Wasalu continued, breaking Gawain's train of thought. "Or I guess we could swap it for a working one when we go back inside. The outer part is removable, right? You just have to keep the cracked part and we just swap out the insides.... What do you think?"

Gawain bit his lip, hesitating a moment before just shrugging.

"It doesn't matter, I think," He said finally, trailing back over to the car and sitting down on the bumper. "Just throw it in here, i guess. I'll just take it as it is. I'm gonna take it apart anyway, y'know? If everything's shit then I guess that's what the other two are for. Who knows, there might still be something useful in there." He shrugged again, giving a small smile for almost no reason at all, other than feeling like it was an obligation to do so every so often. Maybe it would make the injury go away and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

"Though, thinking about how I dropped it twice, I kind of doubt it," Gawain added. "Oh well."

He bit his lip, remembering his wound again. He could throw the information in now, get it out of the way. He took a deep breath, like the entire idea of mentioning it was going to be the most horrible thing in the world. He wasn't even sure how to start the statement, or how to tie it in with what he'd said before, or even explain why he hadn't mentioned it earlier. He supposed he could play it off like he'd ignored it for being no big deal or something.

"The thing is, actually, uh," He let the opening fade, realizing he was already fucking it up. "Well, the main reason i'm having trouble is cause I, uh..." He picked up his wrist and rolled the sleeve back, though he kept the injury mostly covered by his other hand still. Maybe if Wasalu couldn't see it, it would make the lie a little more believable. "I sort of tripped earlier when i was carrying some other equipment, and I... I landed on my wrist funny. So I'm just having even more trouble lifting these things today." He gave an uneasy laugh, almost to just add in I'm okay! It's not a big deal! by force. He really just wanted the topic to be left alone as soon as it was out with. It would be fine, he told himself. Wasalu wouldn't look into it any more. Though, It was difficult to convince himself of that.

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